


Lies Another Paradise Unlighted

by Lion_owl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, F/F, F/M, For an exchange, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: How things might have gone differently if Gwen and Mithian had known each other long before either had been set to marry Arthur





	Lies Another Paradise Unlighted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WoodlandGoddess1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodlandGoddess1/gifts).



> for woody, for round 1 of the [merlin rarepair swap](https://merlin-rarepair-swap.tumblr.com/). whelp, sorry it's late. i hope you enjoy it though!
> 
> thank you so much to [nebby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebula5030/pseuds/Nebula5030) for being a wonderful sounding board and helping me iron out the bits that were being tricky, and for beta reading it and generally just being a massive help when i wanted to set this fic on fire. i hope you approve of the final version
> 
> fic title is [taken from this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=theXp5xLEoQ) which i think fits it quite nicely

It was one of the strangest moments in Gwen’s life when she had woken up and despite still _feeling_ very much like a human, when she looked down at herself, she saw the body of a deer.

The water from the river was seeping into her muscles. Evening was setting in and she was getting very cold, but there was not much she could do about it now. Would she even be able to light a fire if she had hooves? Was she actually a deer or did she just look like one?

She should at least try.

Just as soon as she slept a little bit longer.

When she woke again it seemed to be the middle of the night and she was shivering furiously. Reluctantly she dragged herself to her feet and went in search of firewood. It was dark, so it was almost impossible to see, but to her relief she could at least pick it up. So definitely still human, then.

It took much longer to get a fire going than she would like to admit, and once she did, she sat perhaps a little too close to it, but at least she began to warm up just a little.

Her hand drifted up to her necklace, to the ring Arthur had given her, a sign of their failed engagement but the only thing she had to remember him except what was in her head. It wasn’t there. She’d been incredibly careful to protect it above all else during her banishment; Morgana must have taken it.

She bristled at the thought of her former mistress, her former friend. Morgana had been so sweet, so loving, and Gwen still didn’t understand what had happened to her. She was sure it must be Morgause’s fault. After all, an entire _year_ away from home, a prisoner? It was hard to imagine just how that would change a person. Except, Gwen wasn’t entirely convinced Morgana _had_ stayed against her will.

She wanted to believe it was all Morgause’s fault, truly she did. Certainly, Arthur believed that. But neither Gwen nor Merlin were so sure. Either way, it still broke her heart, and somewhere inside her soul it always would.

The morning found Gwen curled up only inches from the ashes of the dwindled fire and the calls of hunters on the wind.

*

Merlin was tending to her wound. She was still trying to wrap her head around who had caused that wound. Unintentionally, of course; but _Mithian_ of all people?

“What’s she doing in Camelot?” Gwen asked, sure she didn’t want to hear the answer.

Merlin’s expression saddened, and he seemed disinclined to answer.

“Merlin,” Gwen prompted sternly.

“Arthur and Mithian are to marry,” he said, and she felt her throat constrict. _Marry._ Merlin continued: “I’m sorry, Gwen, I tried to talk sense in to him. He doesn’t want this, he likes her, but he _loves_ you, and he misses you. But you know what he can be like.”

“He’s stubborn,” she agreed. “Unfortunately, in this case I deserve it.”

Merlin stopped amid the process of bandaging her leg to look her in the eye. “No, Gwen, you don’t. I know about the bracelet you wore.”

“What about it?” Gwen asked. She assumed it had been found in her cell after she had thrown it against the cold stone in her anger and frustration, but that nobody would think anything of it.

“It was enchanted,” Merlin said. “And Lancelot… that wasn’t really him. Morgana raised his body from the lake to deceive us all.”

That got Gwen’s attention. “I couldn’t believe either of us would do what we did,” she said. “I thought our minds had forsaken us. But to learn this… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Both Gaius and I have tried to talk to Arthur about this, but he won’t listen. I’ve been promised I will join you in exile if I mention you again.” He resumed bandaging her leg. “He found your ring on the ground today, you should have seen his face. I expect he’ll come to his senses soon.”

“You don’t have to do that for me, Merlin,” Gwen said, worrying at how much potential danger he would put himself in before he stopped. He was just as stubborn as Arthur sometimes.

“I do, it’s my fault. I should have stopped the shade sooner.”

“Stop that,” she admonished.

“I can’t do any more to see you return to Camelot, at least for the moment,” he said, in such a way that made her think he was planning something else for the future. “But there is something I can do, come on.” He helped her to her feet and supported her limp as he guided her to his horse. “I’ll take you to Ealdor, my mum will take you in.”

“That’s too kind.”

“It’s the least I can do. Besides, Hunith likes you; she’ll be pleased to see you.”

*

It was many years ago. Before her mother had died, before her father had moved the family to Camelot. They lived in the village of Longstead with aunts and uncles.

One day when she was twelve-and-a-half, a girl stumbled into Longstead. Her clothes looked like they had once been rich and elaborate, but now were ripped and mired; her long, brown hair was straggly, and she was missing her shoes. They brought her inside, and Gwen had helped care for her.

She had known her name, but remembered very little of where she came from. Mithian stayed in a bed in Mary and John’s house, and Gwen had given her some new clothes, which were simple, not at all matching her apparent rank, but they were clean and intact, and Mithian had been very grateful.

“What happened to you?” Gwen asked her one night while sitting by her bed.

Mithian didn’t answer. She’d barely spoken at all since arriving, and Gwen wondered if she’d always been shy or if this was a direct result of whatever had happened to lead her here.

“I won’t let anything else happen,” Gwen said. Though she was hardly in a position to make such a promise, she was nonetheless determined. “I’ll look after to you until you’re well again, and then I will protect you until you go home.”

“I fear I cannot go home,” Mithian said then. She was so quiet Gwen almost didn’t hear her.

“We will find out where you came from,” Gwen said. “My uncle has set off on a quest.”

“Even if I find it, what if the people who did this to me are there?”

“Then you can stay here,” she said. “You can learn to be a blacksmith with me and Elyan.” A part of Gwen hoped that would happen. She had found herself becoming fond of the girl.

“I’d like that,” Mithian said, and then she smiled, for the first time since she had arrived. “Do you ride? If not, I can teach you.”

“Occasionally. But we do not always have a horse.”

“Not have a horse?” Mithian seemed shocked by this. “Then how do you travel?”

“Quite often we simply make do with what we have here.”

“If I do find my family, we will give your village some horses to thank you for looking after me. I am sure we had many.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Gwen said. “Though you may not be able to make such a promise.”

Mithian pouted and crossed her arms. “I will try.”

Then Mary came into the room and Mithian shrunk back into herself, her gaze averted.

“Oh you poor thing, you’re shivering,” Mary said. “Gwen, fetch me some more blankets, would you please?”

Gwen did as she was told and went out into the kitchen to collect more blankets from the rack beside the fire. Her father was there.

“What were you girls talking about?” Tom asked.

“Nothing much,” Gwen said. “Horses.”

*

Mithian’s confidence began to return after that first conversation, and she often joined in the games Gwen and Elyan played, and came with them to a nearby Noble House when they went to visit their mother at work, and she played with Leon, too, when he wasn’t too busy learning how to be a Knight.

Gwen wanted to make good on her word and have Mithian learn Smithery. Tom had been reluctant at first, but Mithian had insisted that her father would not mind, had insisted she was quite sure that her father allowed her to learn whatever she wanted, even though his court did not always approve. Despite his doubts, Tom did not want to make Mithian question herself if her memories were resurfacing, so he allowed it.

One night, Gwen had woken up to the sounds of whimpers, and shouts of terror coming from the room Mithian slept in, and saw her shifting rapidly on the bed, sweat on her forehead, and Gwen ran to her.

“Mithian,” she said, leaning over her and grasping her shoulders. “Mithian!”

Mithian continued to wriggle, and Gwen stroked her face and kept saying her name gently, until she calmed enough to wake up.

“I saw them,” Mithian said, eventually.

“It was just a nightmare,” Gwen said. “They can’t hurt you now.”

“But I saw them, I know who they are.”

“Who who are?” Gwen’s mum asked, appearing beside them.

“The people who attacked me, the people who took me. They were wearing the colours of Amata.”

“The Sarrum,” her mum spat. His reputation preceded him.

“They weren’t after me,” Mithian said. “I just got caught in the crossfire. I heard the men saying I would make a nice trophy, though.”

“What were they after?” Gwen asked.

“I don’t know,” Mithian said, “but there was dust and broken stone everywhere.”

“What Kingdom was it?”

“I still don’t remember,” Mithian huffed in frustration, and then her eyes began to well up. “I can see their faces in my mind, but I cannot tell you their names. What if they’re all dead?”

Gwen didn’t know what to say to that, so she just climbed onto the bed and pulled Mithian into a hug, and held her tightly.

“Will you stay with me?” Mithian asked in a voice so quiet Gwen almost didn’t notice.

“Of course,” Gwen said.

*

Knowing who the attackers had been, aided in the search for Mithian’s family. Attacks and abductions happened frequently, but the Sarrum chose his battles carefully and there were rumours among the villages that the he had recently sent a raiding party to Nemeth.

Gwen insisted on accompanying Mithian when a group from Longstead set out to take her back to her parents, and then Elyan insisted on accompanying Gwen.

The last night of travelling before they arrived, Mithian stole away from the camp and Gwen found her sitting against a tree, gazing out into the stretch of the forest.

“I’m going to miss you,” Mithian said, when she approached. “I wish I could stay.”

“That would be nice,” Gwen said, sitting beside her and leaning against her shoulder. “But you know you can’t, you must rule over Nemeth once Rodor’s time has passed. And I shall not be in Longstead much longer.”

“Where are you going?” Mithian asked.

“To Camelot. The King has recently taken in Lady Morgana as his Ward, and he is looking for a maid for her. Leon’s family was kind enough to put in a good word for me.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Mithian said, getting to her feet and pulling Gwen up. “I’m sure that she will adore you, as I do.”

Gwen couldn’t help but blush at that as she wiped leaves off her clothes with her free hand. The other one didn’t let go of Mithian’s. Taking a chance, Gwen leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Mithian’s lips that left them both smiling, and blushing furiously.

“We’d better get back to the camp before we’re missed,” Gwen said.

*

“Merlin is right, you know,” Hunith said, holding out a bowl of soup to Gwen.

“Thanks,” Gwen said, taking the soup. “Right about what?”

“Arthur will come to his senses,” Hunith said. “Merlin’s told me how much he loves you, he will take you back sooner or later.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Gwen said. Yes, so it turned out she had been enchanted, but she couldn’t help still feeling guilty; feeling, despite how irrational that train of thought was, like her love for him should have been stronger than that.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Hunith squeezed her arm. “It wasn’t your fault. It was Morgana’s fault, completely. He’ll see that.”

Gwen didn’t want to seem rude, so she didn’t continue arguing, but she had firmly accepted her fate here.

*

Arthur sat in silence, Gwen’s ring held tightly in his fist.

Merlin buzzed around him, tidying, cleaning, whatever he was doing. Tonight, Arthur didn’t care. Merlin kept glancing at Arthur’s hand and he could tell Merlin was itching to say something, but he wouldn’t give him an opening.

“You’re dismissed,” he said eventually. “Gaius must need your help with something. Go and bother him instead.”

Mithian would have returned to her chambers by now. After the dreadful end to their hunting trip, Leon had offered that he and the knights give her a tour of the castle and grounds, and she had accepted, much to Arthur’s relief. They had been meant to dine together that evening, but he hadn’t been in the mood any more.

He felt immensely guilty now.

For getting Mithian caught up in this mess while he was running away from his feelings.

For having banished Gwen in the first place.

For not having gone back for her immediately when Merlin told him she’d been enchanted. He rarely admitted it, but Merlin was usually right about these things.

For missing her so much when objectively, technically, Agravaine was probably right. But he still had this nagging feeling at the back of his mind about Agravaine: ever since Gaius’ kidnapping he hadn’t been able to shake off his newly-found distrust of his uncle.

But he did miss her, desperately, and he loved her, deeply, and he wanted her back more than anything.

So how, then, was it that he didn’t want to send Mithian on her way? He didn’t love Mithian like he loved Gwen, but given the time he thought he could come to do so.

So now he felt guilty about that, as well. And confused, oh so confused as to what he should do.

He couldn’t exactly say he had any sort of plan when he donned a dark, hooded cloak and stole from the castle in the moonlight.

*

So far, Leon hadn’t shown any sign that he recognised her beyond her title, had given no inkling that he remembered they had occasionally played together for a brief few months when they were children, and she was lost in a village far from home. If he was aware, he was keeping it hidden.

With Elyan, on the other hand… the moment she arrived in the courtyard, that first day, she could see on his face the recognition, the surprise, the uncertainty. And he had been _expecting_ to see her.

She didn’t recognise him, at first. After all, he was a commoner, and commoners didn’t become knights in Camelot. She’d also been very distracted by Arthur, and how handsome she found him, and hadn’t really thought about it. But at dinner that night, Elyan had caught her eye and she’d been certain she knew him. It wasn’t until one of the other knights – Sir Percival – had addressed him by name, that she realised from where.

Later, he offered to escort her to her chambers, and she’d thought it would be a wonderful chance to talk to him but once they were on their way, they both found themselves silenced.

She was consumed with a single question: if he was here, did that mean Gwen was still here somewhere, too?

She couldn’t ask it.

She’d heard about what the Lady Morgana had done; she’d heard that she’d turned on everyone in Camelot, tried to take over, and murdered dozens before she’d been driven away. Mithian wondered if Gwen had remained loyal to her mistress, had gone with her. She wasn’t sure she could bear to hear it, if she had.

Besides, she was here to marry Arthur, and she couldn’t start getting distracted by someone she’d adored long ago.

And she did like Arthur, really. She would have been very happy to marry him, but she knew something else was going on. It wasn’t just that Merlin didn’t like her. Merlin _did_ seem to like _her_ , he just didn’t seem to think she should marry Arthur.

And then on the hunting trip, he’d hidden it. Arthur had hidden the ring that had distracted him so after he found it on the ground, but not before Mithian had caught a glimpse of it. The hunt called off, the journey back to the citadel had been painfully quiet.

It was with great relief that she’d accepted Leon’s offer for a tour of the castle and grounds, grateful that her dinner with Arthur that night would be cancelled.

“What happened?” she asked Elyan, when they were alone. She figured if anyone was likely to be honest with her, their prior friendship would mean it would be him. He told her the story of a dead knight coming back to haunt them, of the would-be Queen being tricked by Morgana into having an affair with the shade, of Merlin discovering the evidence in a bracelet discarded in her prison cell, of Arthur banishing her because he couldn’t bring himself to execute her.

“Who was she?” Mithian asked, and Elyan’s silence told her everything she wanted to know, and far too much.

*

Sneaking out of the castle in the middle of the night, completely on his own, and wandering around in the dark, was never going to be a successful method of searching for Gwen, and Arthur knew that. And yet, he did it anyway, because he didn’t know how else to find her.

He had assumed she’d been nearby, recently, when he found the ring, but for all he knew she’d thrown it down on the ground when she left and was three kingdoms over by now. Maybe she’d even decided to stow away onto a boat and was making a life for herself in Normandy.

The latter thought, he admitted to himself, was most likely just his tired mind running his imagination wild. But whether she was near or far, he stood little chance of finding her. It was over. He’d ruined it.

And there, sitting as he was shrouded in his cloak and curled up in the hollow of a tree trunk and so utterly alone. He let the tears bubble to the surface and spill out, let the sobs wrack his body and hugged his cloak tighter around himself against the cold night air.

It was over.

He would pick himself up, go back to the palace, get down on one knee in front of Mithian, they would be good together, and one day, perhaps, one day far in the future, he would be okay.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but morning found him still there, nonetheless.

Merlin was sitting at his dining table when he got back. “Your bed hasn’t been slept in,” he pointed out.

Arthur ignored him, not in the mood to deal with Merlin being impudent.

“And you have leaves in your hair,” Merlin was undeterred. “And you’re wearing the same clothes you were wearing when you snuck out last night.”

“I am the King, Merlin.” Arthur snapped. “I can do what I like. I don’t need to _sneak_ out.”

“Exactly. So why did you?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Of course not,” Merlin said, sounding cheery suddenly and jumping to his feet, off to bustling about with his chores, as though nothing had happened, as though he didn’t care in the slightest, which was very unlike him. He pulled two shirts out of the wardrobe and held them up each in turn. “So which would you like pressed in time for the wedding?”

“Fine, _fine!_ I went to look for Gwen,” Arthur admitted, put off by Merlin’s suddenly cheery attitude towards his recent betrothal.

“What, and you thought she would just be lurking in these woods, waiting for you to ask her to come running back?” Merlin asked, and it stung, but Arthur felt he deserved it.

“I don’t know where else to look. She’s gone.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?”

“You know where she is? Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” Arthur glared, and Merlin glared back.

*

“What is it?” Gwen asked, as they walked. “What could possibly be so important?”

Gwen and Hunith had only just finished cooking dinner together when Merlin arrived in Ealdor. Hunith had told him to sit straight down at the table, but Merlin had insisted that ‘ _it smells lovely and I promise I’ll be right back for some, but I really need to borrow Gwen for a minute.’_  And then grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the house.

Now they were walking away from the village, towards the woodland.

“Merlin, please just tell me,” Gwen tried again.

“You’ll see. It’s better if you just see.”

She shook her head, but laughed. She trusted him, so she would indulge him.

“Merlin, I’ve been _waiting_ for–” that voice, its usual impatience, stopped dead mid-sentence when he saw her. When she realised it was him, she walked right into the back of Merlin, before he quickly disappeared into the shadows of the trees to give them some privacy. “Guinevere…”

“Arthur…” the two of them stood, staring at each other for what seemed like eternity. “What are you doing here?” she finally asked.

“I came for you. I’m…” He lurched forward, pulling her into an embrace, his next words muffled by her shoulder. “Oh, Guinevere, I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean, you came for me? Why?”

“I came to ask you to come back to Camelot.”

_Without question,_ she wanted to say; but…

Was this him asking her to marry him again? Or was he just asking her to come back and be her friend and expecting her to watch as the love of her life, and her childhood sweetheart, got married and had kids and grew old together?

She wasn’t sure she could do that, but how could she ask him which it was? Who was she to presume to hope it could ever be the former?

And what of Hunith? She was all alone here, and Gwen didn’t want to abandon her, especially not after all her kind hospitality. And then there was Agravaine, in league with Morgana and whose presence in Camelot certainly belied her safety there.

She missed her brother though, and her friends. She missed Elyan and Leon and Merlin and Percival and Gwaine; and could she _really_ give up the chance to see them every day again, just because of Arthur? He and Mithian would break her heart every day, but the others would mend it in turn.

“I…” she drew back. “I need to process this.”

Arthur’s face fell, and he opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, but she fixed him with a stern expression and he closed it again, he stood up straight and stepped back. “Of course. I need to return to Camelot, but Merlin will stay, and escort you back if you so choose.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” She kissed his cheek as Merlin reappeared, and the two of them began down the hill back into Ealdor. She couldn’t help but look back at Arthur, and found he was watching her go.

*

They’d had dinner with Hunith and sat by the fire with her for a few hours after, drinking warm ale; they’d told her what happened, and Hunith hadn’t said _I told you so_ , because she never would, she just smiled warmly and hugged Gwen and told her that whatever she decided, there would always be a place for her here. Gwen promised that if she did go back, she would visit as often as she could.

Merlin had said he would sleep on the floor, but Gwen had told him not to be silly and now the two and them were shoved up on her bed, but she couldn’t sleep.

“Why did Arthur come back, really?” She asked.

“Because he misses you,” Merlin said. “He loves you.”

“But does he still want me to become his Queen?”

Merlin was silent for a moment, then: “Yes, I think, I mean, I didn’t ask, just assumed, really…”

“What about Princess Mithian?”

“What about her?”

“You told me she was to become his Queen. Does he intend to call that off?”

Merlin was silent.

“You didn’t ask him any of this, did you? You just up and brought him here.”

“It _is_ his destiny to marry you,” Merlin said weakly. “He will probably have to cede the disputed lands to Nemeth if he calls his engagement to Mithian off, but I think he’d be willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Does he like Mithian, though?” Gwen asked.

“Yeah he likes her, but she isn’t–”

“No, does he _like_ her, Merlin, does he have feelings for her? If I had never been there, do you think they could be happy together?”

Merlin considered that. “Yes, I think he does… But you _are_ here, so what does that matter?”

“It matters, because I have a better idea.”

*

The courtyard was empty when they got back. They’d taken the horses to the stables themselves and kept close to the wall as they walked to the palace. They weren’t hiding, exactly, but Gwen didn’t want to make a big deal of her return or draw attention to herself. Not that many people would be looking out for her.

According to Merlin, Arthur planned to insist on he and Agravaine going out for a ride together today, so that if he did react badly to her return, he wouldn’t know about it until there was nothing he could do. Gwen had been surprised to hear this, surprised that Arthur had taken such a strong turn; but she was glad of it. No good could come of the trust he had previously placed in Agravaine, whether she was here or not.

“Mithian’s chambers are this way,” Merlin said, leading her down the hallway. Gwen followed in silence, nerves fluttering at the thought of seeing Mithian again, and in contemplation of what she was about to suggest.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Gwen said when they got there. “Maybe…”

“It’ll be fine, it will work out,” Merlin said, and Gwen wasn’t sure whether he believed that or was just trying to be kind, but she didn’t think he would lie to her if he thought it would end in catastrophe. She knocked on the door before she could change her mind.

Mithian’s face was a picture of shock when she opened the door. “Gwen?”

“Yeah, it’s me… can I come in?”

“Oh, yes, right,” Mithian recovered quickly and opened the door wider to let Gwen through, before closing it behind her.

“I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again,” Gwen said, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, she hadn’t quite realised the extent of just how much affection she still held for Mithian.

“I wish it could have been in better circumstances,” Mithian said, but she didn’t sound cold, or smug, or jealous. “But I am pleased to see you.”  

“Yeah,” Gwen said, not sure how to proceed.

“Would you like some water?” Mithian asked, gesturing to the jug on the table and only one goblet.

“If it’s not a problem,” Gwen said.

“Don’t be silly,” Mithian said, pouring it and handing it to her, and Gwen drank it all at once; she’d been worrying too much to think to stop for a drink when she arrived.

“Thank you.”

“Arthur’s out riding with his uncle,” Mithian said, and Gwen wondered if she was saying that because it meant she’d missed him, or if it was because she thought Gwen had risked her life to see Mithian.

“That’s alright,” Gwen said, “It’s you I need to speak to.”

“Me?”

So the former, then. “Yeah, you,” Gwen said, then stepped forward and kissed the corner of Mithian’s lips. “Remember that?”

Mithian smiled fondly, “that night, in the woods,” she recalled.

“If I could have come with you to Nemeth,” Gwen asked, “Do you think it would have been more than that?”

“Don’t speak like that,” Mithian said, “We’ve missed our chance. Why are you here?”

“But it would have, then?” Gwen persisted. “You’re beautiful, you know. Arthur is a lucky man.”

“Arthur? Why?”

“Because you’re going to marry him,” Gwen said. “I wouldn’t mind taking his place.”                                  

“You were meant to marry _him_ ,” Mithian said. “Wait a minute, weren’t you banished?”

“I was, I’ve been asked back.”

“Oh,” Mithian looked disappointed. “Where does that leave me, then? Should I be packing my bags?”

“Why should you be packing your bags?” Gwen asked. “He hasn’t asked me to marry him, only offered to revoke my banishment. As far as I know, he still intends to marry you.”

“He won’t be happy, though. You should have seen him, when he found your ring on the ground. He couldn’t even hear me. He won’t be happy with me, not if he can have you, and I don’t blame him. You’re wonderful.” 

“But he has feelings for you, you know that; and you have feelings for him, don’t you? And you like me, and I like you?”

“What exactly are you trying to say, Gwen?”

“I’m saying that maybe none of us has to choose,” she said, moving closer still and kissing Mithian briefly but fully on the lips before stepping back. “Maybe all three of us can be together.”

“You think Arthur would agree to that?” Mithian sounded uncertain.

“We have to at least give him the option, don’t we?”

 “Yes,” Mithian pulled her closer again. “Yeah, we do.”

*

As soon as he’d handed his horse off to Merlin when he got back, Arthur took the steps two at a time, anxiety fuelling his pace as he made his way to Mithian’s chambers. He was not looking forward to this conversation, but he’d spent the entire trip home completely ignoring Agravaine’s chatter as he thought about how he would admit what he’d done, and was ready to get it over with; ready to swallow his pride and apologise sincerely.

The last thing he expected when he knocked on her door was for Elyan to open it, and invite him in to the sight of Mithian and Gwen sitting close together, deep in conversation. Elyan quickly made an excuse and took off down the hallway.

“Oh, Arthur,” Mithian looked up, smiling, and he was even more bewildered.

“Arthur, come in,” Gwen smiles as well, and _goodness,_ had he missed seeing that bright, sweet smile of hers.

“Please, join us,” Mithian gestured to one of the empty chairs at the dining table, and Arthur couldn’t figure out whether he was in trouble or not.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We have a proposal,” Gwen said. “Or rather, we hoped you have two.”

“That clears up nothing,” Arthur said.

“Do you want to marry Gwen?” Mithian asked, and Arthur was dumbstruck that she was asking it so casually. “I saw the ring you found, and how you reacted to finding it,” she continued. “I take it you still have it.”

Arthur’s mind flashed to the necklace hidden under his shirt, but he didn’t admit to it.

“But you _do_ have feelings for Mithian,” Gwen added. “Several people have agreed you seemed really interested in her. And you intended to marry, right, so you have a ring for her?”

“I – yes – of course,” Arthur spluttered.

“So now we just need one for you,” Mithian said, like they’d all somehow reached the same obvious conclusion.

Actually, if he was being honest with himself, Arthur suspected he _did_ know what they were suggesting. The idea had crossed his own mind more than once, but he had never thought it would come to anything. Had never expected them to be okay with it, even if he found the right way to say it; much less had he expected _them_ to put the idea forward. Together.

“You both want to marry me?” He clarified, the words sounding like a figment of a dream.

“And each other,” Mithian said, and they raised their hands to show him that they were joined. “All three of us, we’re very clear on that.”

“It’s hardly the Done thing,” he said. Agravaine’s voice was in the back of his mind, protesting. “For a throne to have a King and _two_ Queens.”

“Someone’s got to set a precedent,” Gwen said, “It’s hardly the Done thing for a Queen to come from a common background, either, but you were willing to do that for me.” She held her hand out towards him. “Are you willing to do this for both of us?”

Mithian raised her own hand as well, and together they drew him in. He closed his eyes, and silenced his uncle’s voice.

“Yes, I am.” He said. “I’ll call the council tomorrow.”

*

A few days later, two royal messengers set out from Camelot.

One was bound for Nemeth, with a letter to King Rodor, stating that the treaty had been signed, and the terms of the agreement. The old man smiled when he read it. He knew Mithian and Arthur would be a good match, and he had often wondered about the girl, Gwen, of whom Mithian had grown so fond, of whom she’d spoken often after she returned home that dreadful autumn. He was glad they were reunited. He had never expected them to marry, but he saw no shame in it if it brought his daughter happiness.

The other letter was delivered by the King’s servant himself; he took it to his village, Ealdor, where he gave the letter to Hunith who cried with happiness she read Gwen’s joyful news, and Merlin celebrated with her on behalf of the recently crowned woman whom Hunith had come to regard like a daughter of her own.

A third messenger set out in the middle of the night, a grim expression on the face of a man who had been told that if he didn’t like it, he could be on his way, and in a hovel somewhere several of Morgana’s favourite plates got broken in a rage.

*

And in the citadel, in a newly furnished room, three happy people retired to their new bed and curled up together as they fell asleep.


End file.
